Danced Like The Queen Of The Eyesores
by sjr
Summary: It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. When Kurt gets hurt after a particularly bad dumpster dive, it's Mike to the rescue.


Title: Danced Like The Queen Of The Eyesores  
Beta: None  
Rating: Teen  
Disclaimer: If only...  
Warnings: Angst, fluff, a little blood  
Spoilers: None; set between Hell-o and Power Of Madonna  
Pairing: Mike/Kurt  
Summary: It's all fun and games until someone get's hurt. When Kurt gets hurt after a particularly bad dumpster dive, it's Mike to the rescue  
A/N1: For totalgleekgirl, when I gave her my cold, based on one of her abandoned prompts on glee_angst_meme  
A/N2: Title from the epic song 'New Slang' by The Shins

* * *

Danced Like The Queen Of The Eyesores

It was raining when Mike Chang pulled into the school, slightly later than usual for him. He'd crashed at Matt's after having an Xbox tournament with him, and had to pop back home to change before school. He was glad he'd worn his green hoodie today; it was really just drizzling (and damn, he would never think of that word without remembering Finn's optimistic naming methods that left a lot to be desired) but there was another reason, namely one Kurt Hummel, whom was still being thrown in the dumpster daily, despite have joined (and subsequently quit) the football team. When Finn had joined Glee, he'd stopped going to these humiliating rituals, and after Puck had dated Rachel and gotten a taste of what it was like to be on the opposite end of the social spectrum, had stopped bullying all the gleeks, and most of the other students. In fact, the two of them, although still not talking, had seemed to have both declared themselves the bodyguards of Glee, and did not stand for their teammates being treated badly. On the mornings they could, they stopped Kurt getting thrown in the trash; they made sure no one pushed Artie into a port-a-pottie; they even tried to keep them from getting slushied.

For Mike, who'd never done most of these things, he'd never really seen the appeal. Sure, it was kind of entertaining to see Hummel get all prissy about his clothing, he was ashamed to admit, but he never got why the jocks had to make everyone else feel like shit. So on those mornings where Finn and Puck couldn't be there to rescue Kurt, Mike was there for him, afterwards; he had neither the bulk, the intimidation nor the popularity to take on a whole pack of them, but he could help Kurt clean up afterwards. The hoodie kept him briefly warm during the trip from outside next to the dumpster, to inside in a bathroom, when they did let him remove his coat, and to hide any embarrassing stains from curious teachers; Mike had the feeling that it also served to make Kurt feel better, even when he didn't have a use for it. They never discussed their feelings during it, of course; Mike was helpful and Kurt was grateful, and that was it.

This morning in particular, with the drizzling rain and Mike being late, meant that he only caught a glimpse of Kurt as he was thrown rather roughly into the dumpster. Mike vaguely noted Kurt's jacket and bag lying on the ground, abandoned by the team, as he waited for the jocks to pass by before helping Kurt out. They were laughing and high fiving each other excitedly, and Mike wasn't paying much attention; he was thinking about the test he should have studied for, about the new dance moves in Glee, about how he was going to whoop Matt's ass later on, about a million other unimportant things.

That's when he heard it.

A scream.

An utterly terrified, anguished, harrowing scream.

It was Kurt Hummel, and Mike's heart stopped, stuttered, and ended up somewhere south of where it should have been. His guts clenched into tight, vicious knots of fear as he sprinted to the dumpster, clung to the edge, and hauled himself up to check what had happened.

The sight that greeted him was something he's pretty sure he'll never forget, a sight that will probably haunt him forever.

Kurt Hummel is sitting up amongst the trash bags, his face paler than moonlight, tears streaming down his face from pained, frightened eyes.

Sticking out, just below his left elbow, is a glinting piece of bloodied bone; almost as white as his face. Blood is everywhere, and for one delirious moment, Mike fears that he'll pass out or be sick. He takes in a shuddering gasp, however, and does what Mike Chang does in situations like these; he does the practical thing. It's what he's good at.

He inhales through his nose (god, that _stench_; rotten food and a copper tang) and out through his mouth, takes a moment to think. Get a teacher, get an ambulance, get Kurt fixed. He's about to utter a few short words of comfort, to tell Kurt of his plan, when the boy utters a low, wailing moan.

Oh, fuck it.

Mike grabs Kurt's abandoned jacket- some blue Marc Jacobs piece- and jumps into the dumpster. He feels absurbedly thankful for a few moments that Kurt decided to wear a t-shirt today, before taking charge, becoming practical, useful. "Hey, hey, Kurt; sshh, it's gonna be alright. I'm here, okay? I know it hurts like hell, little buddy, but just listen to me; I'll look after you."

Kurt sniffles for a few moments, before nodding mutely, instinctively trusting Mike to do what he has to do. Mike offers him a tentative, hopefully soothing smile before patting his shoulder gently. "Hang in there, little buddy." He then proceeds to very, very carefully, and very gently (Kurt hisses in pain, but he doesn't scream again, thank God, and only bites his lower lip) wrap the fractured arm in the jacket; he doesn't do anything stupid, like try to push the bone back in, but he needs to stem the bleeding, to make Kurt feel better. "I'll pay for your jacket, okay?" He jokes, and gets a watery, breathless little laugh from the injured teen. It's a start. Mike resists the urge to retch once again; Jesus, how hard did they throw him in if the _bone_ is poking out of his _skin_? There is less blood than he expected, and more than he wants. He takes another deep breath, motioning for Kurt to do the same. If Kurt is calm, it will make his job a whole lot easier. The next step is to actually get out of the dumpster, and at this Mike nearly panics as no clear solution immediately presents itself; the trash bags are holding their weight, for now, but they could sink at any moment. They're too high to jump down, and Mike seriously doubts that he could lift Kurt and carry him to get them both out. That's when he spots it; one of those crappy wooden benches that no one sits on because they're covered in grime and vandalism. They'll be sound enough to take their weight, and he breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay, Kurt, I'mma just gonna leave you a sec; I'll get you out, don't worry. Just give me a moment, alright?" He squeezes Kurt's shoulder again, and the boy flashes him a nervous smile and a quick nod. He's still crying, still in pain, but he's trusting Mike completely now, trusting Mike to rescue him.

Getting the bench over to the side of the dumpster is the easy part; actually getting Kurt out is going to be hard. Mike is rapidly growing alarmed by how pale the other boy is going; he's always had porcelain pale skin, smooth and beautiful, but now he looks pallid, ashen, completely awful. Shock could be setting in. Mike gulps back his fear and clambers back into the dumpster. "Okay, dude. I want you to hold your arms close to you- cradle your broken arm with the uninjured one; that's it. Now, I'm gonna lift you out quickly by your shoulders and set your feet on the bench down there, see? I promise I won't let go- tell me if you feel faint or anything, but I'll keep you from getting hurt any more. Promise, little buddy." Kurt took a deep breath, seemed to collect himself, and nodded once again, a little more woozily than last time. Mike nods to himself for reassurance, pretty damn scared shitless himself, before fixing on a sunny smile and grabbing Kurt by the shoulders. His stomach flips when Kurt nearly stumbles off, but other than that, it goes smoothly. He leans heavily against the dumpster as Mike gets out of it himself, and has a rather nauseous look on his face. He has to blink to keep his eyes open as he's helped off the bench.

Mike will never completely understand what he does next; he knows that the logical, practical thing to do would be to holler for a teacher and the school nurse, to wait with Kurt until the ambulance got here and ride with him to the hospital. Hell, he could even call one himself. It doesn't really matter, because in the end it all works out the same, but it's pretty damn impulsive of him to usher Kurt, injured and bleeding and on the verge of passing out, towards his car, to settle him into the passenger seat, and then to drive them both to the hospital, one hand on the wheel, the other reaching over to touch Kurt in some small way- patting his shoulder, resting on his knee, checking the arm at a red light. He supposes it's the little voice in the back of his head that is screaming to _go, go, go,_ to just hurry the fuck up and sort Kurt out. He doesn't know what he can do to keep him awake, so he chatters on about the choreography in Glee, commenting on how they always seem to end up dancing next to each other. Kurt doesn't respond the whole way there, hasn't even said a word since that scream, but just as they pull up to the ER doors, he utters one sincere syllable, full of hope and joy through all that tears and pain, and Mike can't help but smile honestly at him.

"Thanks."

"No problem, little buddy."

Once they get into the hospital, Kurt is whisked away in a sea of doctors and nurses, and Mike collapses in one of those crappy plastic waiting room chairs. He sighs, leans his head back, and relaxes for the first time in what feels like years. He feels so drained after being wound so tight, so worried and freaked, and now he's done. Kurt will be okay.

Everything is kind of a blur for a while after that; he doesn't think, doesn't move until a nurse comes over and patiently explained that they've having some trouble reaching Mr Hummel's family, and holy shit, Mike realises, no one knows what the fuck happened to them. He winces at the fifty text messages and voicemails he got from Matt, before he scrolls down and calls Mr Schue. The whole Glee club has each other's numbers now after Rachel went kinda crazy planning extra rehearsals. He patiently and wearily explains the situation to Mr Schue, agreeing to him coming down to the hospital since they can't seem to get Kurt's dad. He supposes he should be mad at the oblivious teacher for never noticing what is going on right under his nose, but all of a sudden, he feels like the fight has left him. All the adrenaline has left, and so when Mr Schuester gets there (for some reason, without a gaggle of Kurt's fangirls to coo over their fallen baby) and says he'll take Kurt home, Mike readily agrees. He knows that he should go back to school, but he just drives home and crashes on his bed, sleeping for hours.

The next day is Friday, and Kurt isn't in; unsurprisingly, neither are Tina and Mercedes. He gets from Artie that Kurt's dad is out of town, looking after a sick relative or something. He expects to be fielding questions all day, but apart from Puck and Finn (in unison, amusingly enough) asking who the bastards were that did this, nobody pays him that much attention, no more than usual. Brittany gives him a hug at lunch and smiles at him every time she seems him, her big blue eyes full of warmth and adoration. It's no secret that she really cares for Kurt; although social etiquette dictates that they must not be seen together out of their normal cliques in school, Mike knows for a fact that Brittany has known him the longest (but not necessarily the best) out of all the Glee kids. Santana shoots him a couple of almost-nice glances, happy that her Brittany is happy, and Rachel starts a long, complicated rant about it that he pays no attention to. Quinn just sighs a lot that day, and Mike is reminded of how it was just drizzling when he drove up to school. Mr Schue gives them an update at Glee that day; Kurt will be fine, he'll be back to school Monday, and his arm will be in a cast for about a month, but he was lucky- it could have been worse; he could have passed out from shock or gotten an infection. They applaud for Mike, cheer for him even, and thank him, and it's a really, really odd feeling, so he just blushes and ducks his head down.

He spends the night with Matt, reliving the story, eating pizza and playing video games. On Saturday, he tries to dance, to do chores, to forget about what happened, to not give in to the suddenly protective side of him and go see how Kurt is doing for himself. He manages to put him out of his mind for a few hours, and Mike is rather pleased with himself. Until he dreams about Kurt and all his hard work putting out the horrific image of him lying, bleeding and crying and pale in that dumpster, flies out the window.

On Sunday, he gives into himself and goes to visit Kurt. He drives over there because it's raining. It's coming down pretty bad, actually; not drizzling, it's _pouring_. In the short run from the driveway to the Hummel's front door, Mike is drenched to the bone, dripping on the doormat as he rings the bell and awaits an answer. When Kurt opens the door- awkwardly, with just his right hand in use, his left arm wrist to elbow in a cast and sling- he lets out a shocked squeak and yanks Mike in, muttering to himself. "Sweet Versace, you're soaked through! C'mon, put your clothes in the dryer; I'll get you fresh ones and a towel." Mike wants to protest, to ask how Kurt's doing, to ask why he's all on his own, but he's off like a rocket, obviously pleased to have something to do. So Mike complies- well, as best he can; he takes off his green hoodie and his shirt, although he keeps his jeans and his t-shirt on. He takes his shoes off, figuring that it'd be polite to do so since this place is so nice, and sets them neatly by the door. He's standing, awkward and still dripping, in the kitchen when Kurt returns. He opens his mouth to start speaking, but suddenly a white, fluffy towel is tossed over his head as Kurt sorts his shirt and hoodie out; he stands there dumbly for a few moments before quickly drying himself off and taking the maroon hoodie Kurt offers him. "There we go! Just a quick hour or so; now then, can I be a good host and get you anything?" Mike is still feeling pretty stupid (and kinda impressed; it's obvious that Kurt isn't being hindered too badly by his broken arm) so he doesn't say anything for a little while, before he blurts something out and curses his damn mouth.

"Dude, where's your dad?" Kurt's expression falls a little, and Mike looks at him, really looks at him; the normally composed, haughty Kurt that everyone usually sees is gone, replaced by a Kurt with an arm in a sling, with mussed hair, in a plain white t-shirt that is obviously a little too big for him, and Mike suspects he slept in it, and loose jeans that are definitely not designer, and he looks so freaking normal, just like any other sixteen year old boy, instead of the perfectly sculpted image he projects. "He's, um, he's in Canada; looking after my Aunt Mildred. He's doing his best to get back soon, but it's kinda more important he's up there. She's, um, kind of touch and go at the moment…" He shuffles his feet, looking young and a little sad, and it hurts Mike's heart a little.

"Oh." He mutters, because really, he doesn't know all that much about Kurt, about his family. Up until a few days ago, he was the kid that was in Glee with him and who used to be in football with him that he sometimes helped clean up after a dumpster dive. The kid he rescued.

"So, um, wanna watch Rent?" Kurt's eyes bulge a little, momentary uncomfortableness forgotten in lieu of bonding over a musical.

"_You _like Rent?"

"Yeah, dude, it's pretty awesome."

So they settle in and watch Rent, Kurt going all fantastically excitedly about bonding over it. Seriously, Mike thinks he might pee himself.

An hour in, they're sitting on the couch in Kurt's living room (since Mercedes and Tina have locked him out of his room for the time being as he can't really use the railing on the stairs to steady him if he falls; they're out getting 'supplies' for looking after him until Burt gets back, apparently) when a timer dings somewhere and Kurt suddenly pauses the movie and gets up. "Your clothes are dry." He offers as a way of explanation, and heads through to the kitchen, Mike following him.

Kurt pulls out the shirt first, laying it out on the counter, before taking the green hoodie out and holding it up with his one good arm for Mike to inspect. He looks pleased, cheeks flushed a little, happy smile in place, so Mike quirks an eyebrow curiously. "I love it when they're fresh out of the dryer; all warm and snuggly…" He offers as an explanation, trailing off in embarrassment, averting his gaze to the green hoodie still in his hands. Mike almost thinks that Kurt's gonna put it on, but from the look on his face he won't, and that just seems like such a shame, he just has to remedy this. So he takes the hoodie from Kurt before starting to remove the sling.

"Mike, what are-""Just trust me, little buddy." Mike says in playful affection, and Kurt does, so he allows Mike to dress him up in his warm green hoodie. It's a little weird- it's kinda big on him, not exactly swamping him but not fitting him perfectly, and the left sleeve is kinda tight on the chunky cast, but he looks good in it. _Really_ good in it, Mike muses, as he steps back to admire his work. There Kurt Hummel stands, unflappable and poised, looking young and vulnerable and so damn breakable, staring at him with gratitude (he's pretty sure the emotions talk is gonna occur sooner rather than later) and admiration and something Mike can't quite identify, but he likes it, in his green hoodie, cute and sweet and _waiting_. So Mike gives him what he's waiting for, decides to act on impulse once again.

He steps forward, cups Kurt's cheeks, framing all the beauty of the world in his hands, smiling softly up at him, leans forward, and kiss.

It's a good kiss. A very good kiss, in fact. As far as first kisses go, it was perfect. Sweet and chaste with just a hint of desire and passion. Mike's not gonna go all romantic and say that they poured their souls into it, that every emotion between them, every unspoken word, was felt in that kiss (he'll leave that up to Kurt), but it was probably the most special kiss he's ever had. Eventually (regrettably) they have to break apart, and Kurt is looking up at him with that unidentifiable look in his eyes again, looking like every right thing Mike's ever done. It's quiet for a few moments before he speaks. "Wanna stay and watch the rest of the movie with me?" Mike smiles an uncomplicated smile, and pecks Kurt on the lips before replying. "Yeah, dude. That's exactly why I came over."

They snuggle into the couch together, wearing each other's hoodies, warm and cosy and drowsy. The rain continues on outside, the movie eventually becoming background noise as they began talking, lazy conversations that drifted from the light (what's your favourite song to dance) to the heavy (I'm sorry your mom's dead, little buddy), and they have something here, different and special (and content).


End file.
